“The symposium was sponsored by the U.S. Postal Service, which has seen so many outbursts that in some circles excessive stress is known as “going postal.” Thirty-five people have been killed in 11 post office shootings since 1983.” Some USPS workers do not approve of the term “going postal” and have made attempts to stop people from using the saying. Others feel it has earned its place appropriately–Wikipedia
After the family, co-workers are the people that we spend the most time around, sometimes, it is even more time. So it is not really surprising that people like to take guns to work and shoot everyone that has done them wrong. It is a bit of an over-reaction though. Shooting customers I can understand, kill the bastards. But co-workers? Buddy, just get another job. Really.
I read somewhere that the most common reason people hire a hitman is to kill their spouses, as it is such a pain in the ass to get a divorce these days. Of course, all kinds of loved ones are prime targets for hitmen. There was a story just the other day about a kid wanting to hire a hitman to kill his mother.
In America it is pretty much everyone else that we want to kill. Anyone who gets in our way. Anyone who happens to be on the road the same time we are on the road. Anyone that cuts in line. Anyone that says anything to us. Anyone that has the fucking nerve to breath the same goddamned air that we are breathing.
I love Showtime’s Dexter, because Dexter does what we all wish we could do. He kills people, he kills bad people, but really, most people are pretty bad, aren’t they? In the oddball British film Keeping Mum, there is a sweet little old lady that kills people who are a pain in the ass, which is pretty much everyone she meets.
George Carlin had this great routine where he rattles off all these statics about how many people are killed by handguns every year. It’s stuff like 54 people in England and Wales. 57 people in Australia. 151 people in Canada. 29,569 gun deaths in America. I guess people in other countries put up with a lot more shit than we do.
But in the real world we don’t kill the assholes we met- we do put with the shit. That tightening in the chest is a bit fear, a bit useless rage, a bit I should kill you and if you keep talking I will. But we won’t. The adrenaline rush will leave us pissed off and impotent. And thinking about moving to some place like Montana where the population of the state is under one million. That’s less than most cities worth mentioning.
There was this famous study where they just keep adding rats to a cage and they reached a point where the rats just start killing each other. I think we are pretty close to having too many rats in our cage.
